#goggle what kind of drugs are you on?

[mellowsadistic]

"What am I wearing?!" Tracy shrieked, getting up on her knees and goggling at the disposable diaper strapped tightly around her waist. Her head felt funny. Why was she in bed? The last thing she remembered was Sabrina, her stepdaughter-to-be, giving her something to drink, and then...

"Ah, you're awake!" came a young woman's voice. "Did you enjoy your little nap, Tracy?"

Tracy looked up to see Sabrina standing over her, a mocking smile on her face. "Sabrina?" She still felt a little confused and disoriented, but she didn't like the expression on the girl's face at all. "What's going on?" she demanded. "What did you..." She thought back to that moment in the kitchen, when Sabrina had unexpectedly offered to make her morning coffee. "Did you drug me?!" she screeched. "And why did you put me in a fucking diaper?"

Sabrina's smile widened. "If my Dad wants to get remarried, fine," she said matter-of-factly. "But it's not going to be to some vapid bimbo who's only after his wallet."

Tracy flushed. So what if she was only after Sabrina's father for his money? He was in his sixties or something. If he wanted a hot young trophy wife, what was wrong with that? And if she ended up divorcing him after a year or so and taking half of his fortune, it would be his own stupid fault for being so naïve.

"Unfortunately," said Sabrina, "Dad's been totally taken in by your seductive little schemes, so it's up to me to protect him." Her eyes glittered dangerously. "It's up to me to make sure he'll never be attracted to you again."

"What are you..." But Tracy suddenly gasped, a manicured hand flying to her mouth, as she felt a tiny trickle of pee leak into her Pampers. She tried to clamp down on the flow, but nothing happened. The trickle stopped after only a few seconds, but it was enough to make the padding between her legs feel disgustingly warm and wet, and more to the point, it had been completely out of her control. “What did you do to me?!" she squealed, repulsed by the sensation of piss soaking into her pants and pressing against her pussy.

"You really are stupid, aren't you?" Sabrina laughed. "Isn't it obvious, you dumb whore? I made you incontinent. Or is that word too big and complicated for you? Would it be easier to understand if I told you that you'll never use the little girl's room again?"

Tracy stared at her, open-mouthed, too stunned and horrified to speak. She couldn’t be incontinent. She couldn’t be. It wasn't possible to just take someone's control away!

"I added a special ingredient to your latte this morning," Sabrina explained, as if reading her mind. "A little something I found online. A few drops are enough to cause total and permanent incontinence, though I promise you it's quite untraceable, so don't bother running to the police to whine about how your boyfriend's meanie daughter stole your potty training. I made sure not to leave any evidence, and you'll just sound crazy."

Tracy felt as though she'd been doused in icy water. If Sabrina was telling the truth, if she really was incontinent, then she'd never be able to seduce a man again! Her stomach rolled as she imagined trying to persuade Sabrina's father to buy her a new pair of shoes, clutching his arm and rubbing her breasts against his chest, only to feel her diaper drooping between her legs as she pooped in it without warning. She'd be a joke!

Sabrina was smirking. "Are you getting it now, you gold-digging trollop? Your homewrecking days are over. Men aren't going to look twice at you when they find out about your little potty-pants problem. The kind of guys you're after want a hot piece of ass, not a diapered one, and without your sex appeal you're nothing but an overgrown brat. But you should know, there are men out there who are into girls that need diapers. Maybe you could find one of them to look after you? Of course, it wouldn't be the kind of glamorous lifestyle you'd hoped for... It would be a life of spankings, early bedtimes, messy highchair feedings, and begging your Daddy for diapie changes. But hey, at least you wouldn't have to work!"

[fatkish]

I found this post you made and idk how old it is but it was about writing stories to heal inner child to give readers someone who stepped up for them as a kid since they didn’t have someone… idk if ur still taking requests for that, but if you are, any chance you could write smthing related to saving a kid from sex trafficking? Specifically where it was perpetuated by the parents if that makes sense?? Idk. I want Aizawa to come get me outta there lol(I’m okay now). Maybe he was undercover or smthing for a bigger operation and came in contact with.. that. Thanks for reading my whole request ^^;;

Aizawa x SA Victim Child Reader

TRIGGER WARNING: please be aware that the following content contains allusions to rape, the sexual exploitation and abuse of minors as well as unwanted sexual advances. Please be warned

Aizawa goes undercover disguised as a potential buyer for an illegal quirk boosting drug that the reader’s parents are selling and finds readers parents offering reader to buyers as well.

Reader is 12 and still hasn’t developed a quirk yet. They are a late bloomer and their parents decided that their kid needed to ‘help out the family’ since they haven’t developed a quirk

Reader is forced to take lessons on ‘dancing’ in order to entertain the clients. The reader’s parents have made them believe that they are not worth saving and that heroes will treat them like a villain because what they’re doing is wrong and because their parents are ‘evil’

Aizawa was back in his underground days and came upon the house acting as a corrupt hero. He had found an actual corrupt hero who used the drugs and knew about the kid. Aizawa followed the hero and was talking to the parents when they offered the reader to him.

Aizawa, not believing this, actually went to the room and paid the parents before going in alone.

The reader’s parents don’t really care how long people are along with the reader, as long as they pay them good money. The father’s quirk allows him to distort electrical circuits and signals rendering any device that investigators might use to capture evidence of their deeds, to be useless.

Once alone with the reader, Aizawa was revolted by the way the reader was sexualized by their own parents. He talked to the reader and it took some convincing but he eventually gave the reader a phone that they could use to gather evidence from the inside.

After Aizawa left, because there wasn’t anything he could do at that exact moment that wouldn’t make things worse for the reader, he informed the police as well as the other heroes he was working with about the situation and within the next three days, they had all the information they needed in order to get a search warrant and arrest the parents

Aizawa was the one who was in charge of the kid. It was during the raid that the reader’s quirk finally manifested.

Their quirk allows them to build up and store massive amounts of electrical energy and basically turn their body into electrical energy as well as manipulate it. The reader can travel through electrical circuits like landline phones and computers. They can create a force field of electrical energy that fries anything within it as well as control electricity and shape it.

The reader was being ‘used’ by a rather violent man who was being far rougher than anyone had ever been before. It was during all the stress and anxiety that the reader finally had enough. When Aizawa busted the door down he saw the man had been electrocuted to death and had electrical burns all over him.

Aizawa realizes the severity of the situation and instead of using his quirk he decided to have the reader try to control their ability themselves. Aizawa gently removed his goggles and slowly approached the hyperventilating child. He gently talked to them, speaking in a soft voice, he told them that it was over. That their parents have been arrested and that they will never have to deal with this kind of treatment ever again.

The reader obviously wasn’t comfortable with touching others and Aizawa understood that. Aizawa had given the reader the space they needed and made sure to always be within the reader’s sight and also made sure that anyone who had to be near the reader, followed the reader’s directions.

If they didn’t want to be touched, Aizawa made sure they wouldn’t be. If the reader was uncomfortable, Aizawa made sure that whatever was causing it was dealt with. For the first time ever, the reader actually saw and believed that someone was willing to protect them and after a few months the reader was finally comfortable with sleeping in the same room as Aizawa.

The doctors and nurses were worried about the reader since they refused to be touched and would use their quirk to defend themselves. It was only after Aizawa was able to gain the reader’s trust that the doctors had Aizawa be their proxy and do the tests needed. With every test that Aizawa had to do, he would explain in detail what he would be doing, why he was doing it and made sure that the reader felt comfortable and safe, making sure that they understood that they had to give consent before anything would be done.

Eventually a therapist and counselor where provided to the reader to help them deal with the trauma from their experiences. The reader wouldn’t really talk to anyone besides Aizawa

Seeing this the courts as well as the reader’s doctors suggested that Aizawa become the reader’s legal guardian

Aizawa adopted the reader and had Hizashi introduce himself to the reader. After that, the two of them decided to take the reader shopping since this was more of Hizashi’s area of expertise rather than Aizawa’s. They bought clothes for the reader, toys, books, electronics, snacks, toiletries, bedding, furniture, etc.

Once they got to Aizawa’s house, they helped the reader get everything inside and showed the reader their own rood with an attached bathroom. The reader even had a lock on their door that they could control from their side. Aizawa even helped the reader instal one of those chain locks on their door

It took a lot of time but eventually the reader began to trust Hizashi too. Eventually one day the reader had fallen asleep on the couch next to Aizawa. Aizawa was so touched and smiled softly. He made himself, as well as the reader, a promise, he would do whatever it took to keep them safe and make sure that they were happy and felt loved and cared for

(I hope this helps you and that you enjoyed this. I hope that your inner child finds some peace with this and that this helps them heal.)

[anthonys237thfreckle]

i need need need headcanons for anthony with a gf who’s like got a career in STEM and she’s super smart and as an actor he’s amazed by her lmao.

this is so cute! thanks anon

I’m looking for a woman in STEM - Anthony Ramos x F! Reader

prompt: headcanons for Anthony who’s girlfriend is in STEM - i’ve picked biomed for a degree since my mom wanted me to do biomed in high school

TW: mentions of academic stress and panic attacks, mention of drugs used in medicine, mention of mental illness

🔬 when you both first met, and he first asked for where you graduated from, let me tell you - mans did NOT expect you to say ‘Cambridge’

🔬 ‘Oh, so like Cambridge College in Massachusetts?’

🔬 This man omg

🔬 When you said ‘No, England’ he felt goosebumps cause like ‘geez louise CAMBRIDGE?’ and when you casually said you did biomed he was like ‘wait what-’

🔬 ‘Me? Oh, I did Musical Theatre’ he says matter of factly, and you’d add ‘Oh, I played piano when I was in elementary-’

🔬 You’d be the definition of a perfect golden child. He knows that couldn’t have been easy

🔬 When you two do start dating, he’s always bragging ‘Oh my girlfriend does lab research for this new supplement for this drug for schizophrenia in children-’ HE’S A PRO YAPPER. Especially in interviews.

🔬 He’s so proud of everything you’ve done - doing medicinal research at NYMC (New York Medical College)

🔬 Maybe in the winter as you two are baking (you always make sure the measurements are perfect, never letting him measure anything out lol) he always says baking is an ‘art’

🔬 ‘Actually babe, it’s chemistry’ you’d chuckle, taking a bite out of some gingerbread cookies, and ever since, he’s jokingly kept a lab coat and goggles and chides you for ‘not tying your hair in the lab’.

🔬 You’d tell him about how hard high school and college was for you, having to get a scholarship, going to British private schools because the medicine industry is mad competitive and honestly, you need to show something off in your application.

🔬 You’d tell him how even though you did Cambridge IGCSE and A level courses all throughout high school, it was no match for what England had in store for you - panic attacks became a weekly thing.

🔬 I mean, you did Pure Math, Biology, Chemistry and Psychology A and AS levels for gods sake - its an absolute mindfuck.

🔬 He’s always there to reassure her how smart she is and that she’s human no matter what - that college is over, and the drug trials will end up great, and a bunch of kids will get some damn good medication.

🔬 He LOVES it when you come watch his shows and movies. It means the absolute world to him.

🔬 Soon, he kind of drifted away from theatre after Hamilton, and started in film, and would always get super excited whenever he’d get some remotely science-y role.

🔬 Like in In Treatment, he’d come to you for help for some advice on his role, on some deeper level analysis (not as deep as an actual therapist guys, just a psych student level) and you’d be squealing with pride when you see him on TV.

🔬 And when he got into the more Sci-Fi movies like Transformers, he’d tell you ‘it’s not that deep, baby.’ whenever he’d catch your brows furrow in confusion at the misuse of a niche scientific term

🔬 He’d be so happy when he landed Twisters, even though you weren’t a meteorology student, your use of organic chemistry would def have some revelations when watching Kate use some form of polycarbonate.

🔬 ‘they’re right! they use silver iodide for cloud seeding!” you’d giggle.

🔬 affectionately calls you ‘nerd’ all the time.

— for anyone not british, igcse is from grades 9-10 and a levels are a bit like AP! but like they have a lot of depth. you’re not expected to do more than three.

[olderthannetfic]

https://www.tumblr.com/olderthannetfic/739001454751268864/a-tag-that-someone-made-when-reblogging-one-of

i was drunk off my ass the first two times i had sex (facilitated by the same friend as it was at parties at their house where it happened lmao) and i thoroughly enjoyed myself both times and discovered i enjoy the lowered inhibitions that let me say and go for what i really want that come with being drunk (but not so drunk i throw up on people cause that's just not sexy) and it also makes me HATE the refrain i see whenever those kinds of stories go around that "having sex with a drunk person is rape"

no. no it's not. getting someone drunk specifically to have sex with you when they've otherwise said no? yeah, sure. but two people drinking at a party and hooking up, even if one is more drunk than the other, is not rape. is it probably a little sketchy if one is stone cold sober? yeah, but like, getting drunk in a social situation where i'm fully aware sex is a possible outcome means that i'm ok with the sex happening! and if, when the drunk goggles wear off, the person i slept with isn't as hot as i first thought, oh well, lesson learned lmao

the idea that adults can't consent to sex despite consenting to the lowered inhibitions that come with drinking/doing drugs/whatever is so insidious and gross to me. is it unfortunate that sometimes there are edge cases where maybe the lines get blurred/regret after the fact colors perceptions of what happened, yeah, but adults aren't gonna stop fucking around and finding out, either.

--

Yuuuup.

I get the sense that a lot of people either never drink or go straight from a tiny buzz to blackout drunk. Until I hit my late 30s, I could drink like a fish, then go jogging in high heels, experience no memory loss, and not have a hangover the next day. I don't really recommend that many tiki drinks at once for the sake of one's liver, but whether it makes you too out of it to hook up is really going to depend on genetics and what tolerance you've built up lately... Not to mention how repressed you are normally. If you're having a drink or two to get over a mild fear of rejection, things are going to go very differently the next morning than if you're extremely conflicted about the shit you want to do.

[valscodblog]

"The Crash"-A Ruby "Jewel" Ramirez Dialogue

"Name one mission that gives you nightmares."

"...November eleventh, two thousand."

"...What went down, if i can ask?"

"...A bomb."

"...From who?"

"...Russian planes. They were so high above me-I was landing anyways-but they were so high up above me...I didn't see 'em until it was to late."

"Is that why you quit the Air Force, Jewel? Joined the SAS?"

"Yeah, it is, Price."

"...Damn...Mind going into more detail-for the files, I mean."

"...Sure."

She looked down at her feet and sighed before slouching in her chair and then sitting up straight again.

"I was, uhm...Sixteen at the time. I had joined underage due to my father getting my date of birth wrong on my birth forms."

"How?"

"He was a drunk-a bad one."

"ah...Go on, Love."

she inhaled and started talking again, seeing that Price wasn't even looking at her-but her forms.

"Well, uhm...We had a successful...Fireworks show."

"Fireworks show?"

"...You know the code, Cap'in."

"Ah..go on."

"I was damn near base-but they were even closer...and high above-like I said. They dropped some bombs to make themselves lighter-they didn't even know that we had a base where they bombed."

"...Fuckin' Jesus."

"yeah-and my dad warned me to jump plane-but I couldn't. I was too scared-I couldn't move. At all...I was frozen...My dad came up to the cockpit and tried shakin' me alive-didn't work. I was too scared to move."

"...That's why you like to drive then?"

"Hate driving. I've been in more than one kind of crash, John."

"How many? And what kind?"

"Car, Plane...motorcycle...Fair Ride..."

"...How are alive?"

"Because God Loves to see me suffer. He thinks it's funny."

"hey now. Be real."

She sighed.

"I'm trying-but talking about this...scares me. My dad's face is all fucked up-cuz of Me. They US Army told me to quit-so many times."

"Well...your one of the best rookies I've ever had, Y'know...that Army must be on drugs."

"Half of 'em did-or used to, being honest."

"Jesus."

"yeah. Life was fine back in the US...not that I live here in the UK."

"...And why not? I hear Liverpool's rent is on the cheaper side."

"...Cheaper than the state's?"

"...No."

"Didn't think so."

And with that, she walked out, and looked at her lieuntant-he had heard everything and she could tell.

"Hope you enjoyed story time! Come on back next week to hear about how I fucked up a whole squad and nearly got killed doing it!"

She shouted angrily as she walked off from Him. He stood there, looking at her-and then the open door, and Price behind his desk.

"Go on-Go after her."

and He was off.

"Corporal!"

"Que!?"

"Watch your tone, young lady!"

"Like your my dad!"

"I'm old enough to be!"

"Oh really!? Your fifteen years older than me!?"

"More than..."

She glared up at him through her goggles. He glared back. They held each other's glares for such a long time, that Soap thought that they were talking to each other in their minds.

"...Fuck you."

"Station eight-all week."

"Only Price-"

"Price said I could give permission if you acted up."

"Wow...Must be special."

"More work-less talk, Lovie."

"Shut up, Riley...your not my fuckin' boss...I was a fuckin' commander once-I killed a whole enemy squad...And I can kill you too."

"But you won't because ye like me. Innit right?"

"...Fuck you..."

She looked down and walked away, slipping a knife into Simon's palm.

"What's this?"

"Look in the handle. See you."

He flipped the knife open-"Happy birthday Simon!"

"...Me Birfday...hmph."

[bp-zb1fics]

No, it’s not lasik

pairing: matthew x foreign student reader

genre: university au on crack (same verse as a little crazy and sunbaenim), fluff, comedy

tw/tags: teen movie makeover matt ver., pls just google lasik, mattbin unfounded allegaytions, zb1/bp side characters for comedy, a lot of banter, matt not curing a lot is canon but reader does and it's contagious, yes i love descriptions, cha woongki iconic queen, yaebin another iconic queen, the rain is a paid actor, wet tshirts, kinda stripping, kissing, making out, matt's still a loser but we love him, hanbin bday fic spoiler lowkey

wc: 2200

summary: matthew decided to give himself a makeover during your summer break.

a/n this is dedicated to @seok02, she loves matt and uni aus so here's a bit of both, i did my best, hope you like it nina~

Check my pinned for more fics~

It’s not on purpose. You just can’t stop staring. And before you can think, he’s staring back and you blurt it out.

“You’re blond.”

Matthew pauses as if he doesn’t know how to respond to that. You don’t blame him.

“Yes I am?”

You have no idea how to respond to this either.

When you and Matthew met as freshmen, he had a mop of brown hair that somewhat resembled a halfway bowl cut, chunky glasses that often slipped off his nose and a penchant for outfits that were at least 2 sizes bigger than his body. And you found him absolutely adorable. You also thought he was dating Sung Hanbin from the way he and the older boy seemed practically attached at the hip and their whole childhood friendship arc. 

It was only towards the end of that year when you found out that he and Hanbin, in fact, did not like each other that way. And also Hanbin was someone else’s slightly manic boyfriend with his subtle psycho tendencies that you’ve had the absolute displeasure of witnessing. In your defence, he also got like that with Matthew sometimes so it’s not like your assumption was entirely baseless. 

Now back to the situation at hand. 

“So did you finally get lasik?”

“Uh, contacts? And I still have glasses, you know, just in case.”

You goggle at the trendy, wire-rimmed frames he’s holding in place of the thick, hipster ones he used to sport. Also, since when did Seok Matthew show his biceps and have they always been this large? Did someone burn his closet and replace all those oversized shirts and pants for muscle tees and straight jeans? 

Maybe it’s just you but you feel the beginning of a headache trying to digest all…this. You narrow your eyes and let your exact thoughts at the moment run its course.

“Who the fuck are you and what have you done to Seok Matthew?

He sputters. Before he can answer, the door opens and Zhang Hao walks in. The senior stares at Matthew for a good ten seconds before producing a perfectly pleasant expression and saying.

“Oh Matthew, new haircut?”

Well, at least you’re not the only one. Now Matthew just looks sheepish.

“Something like that hyung.”

Chen Kuanjui follows shortly after Hao. Apparently his response to opening the door and getting jumpscared by Matthew’s new look is to freeze, eyes growing two sizes, spine arched, sort of like a cat who isn’t sure whether they’re actually in danger or it’s a prank. Several other members of the foreign student society arrive with varying degrees of reactions.

By the time Kamden slouches in, you’re almost expecting something other than his usual expression.

“Good morning,” he says to the whole group in general, eyes lazily wandering around the room before settling on Matthew. Like Hao, he takes a few good seconds to process. Then, he says.

“Matthew-ah, I don’t know what kind of drugs you were on when you decided to bleach your hair, get lasik and get dressed by some Kpop stylist but I want some of that.”

He sits down. Jay laughs. Nobody else does, probably because the only English speakers present at the moment are the four of you. Matthew sinks deeper into his seat, thoroughly flustered and bright red from all the unexpected comments.

“It’s contacts, not lasik” He mumbles, probably to Kamden. You decide now is the best time to avoid eye contact with everyone else in the room. Also, you don’t want to get caught staring at Matthew’s biceps as he flails frantically after nearly falling off his chair.

At least whatever the fuck happened over the summer didn’t come with an attitude change.

__________________________________________

“Soo, who talked you into this? Yaebin? She’s been wanting to burn your homeless clothes for ages.”

“Shut up,” Matthew passes you a spoon. “And they aren’t homeless clothes.”

After the foreign student society meeting finished up, you had a sudden craving for patbingsu and like the good friend he is, he offered to split with you. 

“Mhmm, sure whatever helps you sleep at night.” You start digging into the shaved ice. Matthew snatches one of the rice cakes you were eyeing. 

“Bitch, I wanted that.” You give him the most offended expression you can muster. 

“Sucks to be you, I guess.” He still passes you another one. You eat it before he gets any sneaky ideas.

Later, he’s the one who’s looking at you betrayed.

“You went to Japan and you didn’t tell me?? Fake friend, what the fuck.”

“Excuse me, I said my family went to Japan while I was in Australia. I didn’t go with them, thank fuck, I needed some me time.”

“But still,” Great, now he’s pouting. “There’s like a ton of limited edition figures that I would like die to have.”

You swear your eyes are rolling to the back of your head. This absolute dork.

“Then you go to Japan, damn, sue me I guess.”

“Uhuh, with whose money though?”

“I mean now that you’re hot and everything, I heard models get to travel for shoots and stuff.”

“Wah, you think I’m hot?”

Dammit, you’ve been caught. Retreat. Retreat.

“I was joking, forgot that models were supposed to be tall.”

“...shut up.”

“He isn’t going to deny it, I guess.”

“I will eat all of these rice cakes.”

“Bitch, don’t you dare.”

__________________________________________

Once you’ve gotten over yourself and realised that Matthew is the same nerdy, disgustingly nice person that you know and love (and still kinda have a crush on, not like you’re planning to admit that anytime soon), it’s easy to fall back into your usual routines. Unfortunately, the rest of campus has not gotten over themselves like you have. It’s (really) annoying.

“Omo, is that Seok Matthew or did you finally get a hot boyfriend to walk you to class?”

You sigh. Cha Woongki was a delight to sit with most of the time but he can be a shade bit dramatic. He isn’t the only one. You’ve definitely spotted a bunch of the girls (and even a few guys) whispering and throwing glances when Matthew drops you off at your lecture room. It’s one of those little things the two of you do after figuring out which classes you have for the semester.

“It’s just Matthew.”

“Lock him up, omg. You need to stake your claim on those biceps before some other person gets their claws into him.”

“Please, I can't just do that.”

“Like it’s hard? He’s like halfway in love with you, honestly, all you have to do is put a hand on those muscles, bat your pretty little eyes and tell him these babies are yours and he’ll give them to you.”

Maybe you’d take this more seriously if Woongki hadn't just given a live demo of what he wanted you to do on the unfortunate person that decided to sit on his other side. Lee Jeonghyeon eyes you both nervously before shifting so there’s at least three seats between him and Woongki. 

“He’s not in love with me.”

“And I don’t want to kiss Jeonghyeonie, go figure.”

Jeonghyeon stands up and moves to a different row. You sigh again.

When class ends, Matthew’s already waiting for you outside, shifting nervously as a group of girls linger nearby, giggling and glancing over at him

“How was class?”

“Kinda chill, seongsaengnim was more on doing practical work today so I didn’t lose as many brain cells, you?”

“I think my head might explode.”

“Yikes, that bad?”

“Yeah. Oh, by the way, we’re gonna drive out somewhere on the weekend, wanna come?”

“...You can’t drive though.”

“Sorry, I mean Hanbin-hyung is going to drive us, some kind of day trip thing, they’re still figuring out if we can do an overnight, maybe some camping, it’ll be fun.”

“Hmmm”

“You should go.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Eyyy, go already, come onnn.”

“.....”

“I’ll pay for food?”

“..Okay fine.”

“Nice! It’s going to be fun, I promise.”

Well, if Matthew looks that excited, you’re pretty sure it’s going to be fun. Honestly, you didn’t need that much convincing but you can’t keep caving every time he uses his sunshine smile like that. (you still do, though). 

__________________________________________

Because Matthew agreed to pay for your food, you’re doing groceries together the day before the trip. By together, you mean Matthew pushes the cart and you pick out the goods and very occasionally you argue over the merits of a certain snack or whether you really need to bring that much alcohol for a potentially overnight trip. (you do)

Any good relationship friendship is all about compromise.

“You’re seriously making me broke this early in the sem?” He tells you once you get to check-out.

“You offered, no take backs.”

He pays for it anyway and insists on carrying most of the bags. No, you are not looking at the way his biceps are straining especially when his clumsy ass nearly faceplants as you walk out. 

Of course that’s when it starts raining like hell froze over and decided to come at you. Both of you start laughing and swearing like absolute idiots and you make the cardinal mistake of looking Matthew in the eye.

Apparently getting hot over the summer means that he looks devastatingly Kdrama male lead attractive in the rain. His hair manages to maintain that wet look that happens to be showing forehead. Droplets of water dripping down his face and neck like the rain decided to be a paid actor when it made contact with his body. And his eyes crinkle and he’s smiling and you feel your heart drop into your ass and then levitate out of your body like it sprouted wings. Seriously, how can he look at you like that when you probably look like a drowned rat?

You’re tracking puddles as you reach his dorm room, shoving the wet plastic grocery bags to the side and grabbing towels. 

“We gotta change.” Matthew notes. And with absolutely no warning, he begins to take off his shirt. You’re in hell.

First of all, today, of all days was when Matthew decided to wear a white shirt. Which means you are treated to a nearly transparent and downright illegal view of wet fabric plastered to the ripped muscles of his back, shoulder muscles moving as he tries to peel the shirt off. And you can’t even get started on his arms, they’ve been the bane of your existence for days. And because he’s an idiot, he’s actually struggling to get his shirt off, seconds dragging out your agony. He turns and you catch sight of his bare abs and your brain-to-mouth filter decides to unalive itself.

“Okayy, damn, I didn’t ask for a strip show.”

Matthew looks up and you’re suddenly struck by the horrible feeling that both of you know you’re checking him out. Maybe the rain got into his brain too because he proceeds to walk up to you, open his mouth and say the most unSeok Matthew thing you’ve ever heard in your life.

“You know you like it.”

Dead silence. Maybe you’ve actually died because you can’t believe he just said that. Also you’re so sure you’re blushing because you’re being treated to a front-row view of how his wet shirt plasters against the outline of his abs and pecs. It’s kinda, really fucking unfair. Finally, you look up at him and muster the most unimpressed look you can because that line was so bad and he’s such a fucking dork but also you might as well shoot your shot.

“...Bitch, just kiss me already.”

Matthew kisses you already. It’s great. He somehow manages to be warm against you even though you’re both absolutely soaked. There’s a lot of free real estate to grab onto so you’ve finally got your hands on his biceps, squeezing them as he catches your bottom lip between his. He tastes faintly of mint and also those fruit popsicles you had earlier. His hands slide down to your sides, rolling up your wet shirt a little so he can thumb over your bare skin. Something hot explodes in your stomach as his lips press warm against your neck. 

It’s really fucking hot except you’re both still wet and gross from the rain and Matthew nearly slips and gives both of you concussions. You burst out laughing as he apologises sheepishly.

“For the record,” You tell him later once you’re showered and dry and on his couch wearing his hoodie with your legs on his lap. “I liked you with those nerdy glasses even if you dressed like Seo Taji and Boys decided to make a comeback.”

“Yaebin said the same thing.” He pouted. “But you were all over that acting major last year and I thought he was your type.”

You choke. “Bak Doha? I went on like two dates with him and one of them was because Woongki dared me too. Second one was because he was actually a nice guy and I felt bad so I treated him out for chicken.”

“Eyyy, next time only treat me out for chicken.”

“...be glad I still find you cute.”

[b4mpyre-k1zz3s]

Gateway Drug

This all started when you asked your buddy Steve to pierce your tongue in the heat of the moment at a party. Now, you were introducing each other to things you never thought you’d indulge in.

Steve-O X Masc!Reader

(Fluff, Angst)

1.1k Words

Warnings: Highly suggestive content, VERY unsafe piercing practices, penetration metaphor, drug use, alcohol, makeouts, blood, corruption

An: Thank you so much for sending in your requests!! This fic was largely inspired by this AMAZING piece of fan art by @goldfish-trick, who you all should go and send SO MUCH LOVE because he is an incredible artist :) Anyways, hope you enjoy and keep sending in those requests! :D

You didn’t know how you were going to ask this, especially not while you were in that filthy bathroom, which was small enough without the two of you crowded in like sardines. Steve looked you up and down, trying to read the situation through drunk goggles, “What’s goin’ on, dude?” Now you were staring across at him standing nose to nose, so to get a little distance and clear your head, you took a seat on the countertop, leaning against the broken mirror behind you. Swallowing hard, the sounds of the party you pulled him away from were buzzing just outside the door, almost as loud as the sound of your own heartbeat in your ears as you cleared your throat, “Do you think you could uh, like- help me pierce my tongue?”

“Oh shit….Really?” Steve cracked a grin in disbelief at your stammered request- of all people, he didn’t expect this shit from you. Maybe Knoxville, more likely Bam or something- but you? You were considered the goody-two-shoes of the Jackass crew, which is admittedly kind of an oxymoron, but it was true. You drank, but you didn't get shitfaced every night, and sure you smoked a little pot here and there, but you never really got into the hard shit like everyone else. “Yeah- I mean,” raking a hand through your sweat soaked hair, you turned to the medicine cabinet that sat over the toilet, “I thought you’d have the stuff, y’know?” He had his fair share of body mods with all his tattoos, not to mention the fact you heard that after Chris stopped doing tattoos in exchange for crashing on peoples’ couches back in the day, Steve ended up in possession of his equipment (which you also knew included a few piercing needles).

But there was something really cute about the way you asked him, acting all shy about it, so he nodded, “Yeah, I gotcha.” Under the low light, it was hard to see the way Steve’s grin widened a little as he rummaged through the disorganized medicine cabinet. Something he really couldn’t place about this setup thrilled him- it’s the same feeling you get when you stick a knife in a new jar of peanut butter, like he was taking something untouched and tainting it. Well, more accurately, he was taking something untouched and putting a fourteen gauge hole in it. While Steve was busy preparing the hopefully sterile needle, you leaned over and locked the bathroom door with trembling hands.

Steve was holding the needle like a cigarette, between his middle and forefinger, a fact you only noticed because you were trying to stare anywhere but at him as he was putting the clamp from the piercing kit on your tongue. Despite how intimate this whole situation was, Steve maintained his cool, almost studying you- the nervous laughter, the traces of fear in your eyes. When you looked back at him, he couldn’t get over those eyes of yours, the kind you’d see on a cartoon deer. He had to ask- give you one last out, “Y’know this is gonna hurt, right?” You would have given him an affirmative but with a needle hovering over your tongue, you speak only in vowels. Nobody was there. Nobody would be there to see this.

The actual piercing part was over fast- stick the needle through, put the jewelry in, done, but that was the last thing on either of your minds. Maybe it was the physical proximity or the idea of having his fingers all in another dude’s mouth, but Steve was going through so many realizations in that bathroom with you. One of them was that you were kinda cute for a guy. Maybe it was the fact you had lips like Angelina Jolie or the way your eyes hadn’t left his the whole time he was doing it. Maybe this was one of those gateway drug things- first a tongue piercing, next you’re getting yourself kicked out of bars at three am together, and then you’re at a party, asking him for help doing your first line. This could be the start of something disgusting, and he couldn’t be happier. Steve only just figured out why he liked this so much: there was satisfaction to be found in fouling up this thing he saw as clean. Yeah, he thought you were hot, but he never thought he’d be into the whole pretty boy thing. Hell, he never thought he could be into a dude in that way in the first place, but you might have just changed his mind. In his eyes, you were enough like a chick that he could be into you.

After the clamps came off and you had a chance to relax your jaw, Steve got your attention when he pressed a thumb against your bottom lip, his eyes all half lidded with this sleazy look plastered on his face, “Hey- I wanna see how it looks.” So you opened your mouth a little. Nearly chest to chest with him, literal inches apart. It felt vulnerable. Maybe that’s what possessed you to close that space between you, and that quickly, you were kissing a dude. You were there, swapping spit with a guy like it was nothing and the most unbelievable part of everything that happened was that you really enjoyed it. In that bathroom, only a thin layer of wall board away from the rest of the party and anyone’s prying eyes were two bros, finding out what the inside of another man’s mouth tasted like. Blood, mostly.

And there was some touching too- Steve’s tattooed hands on your chest, your neck, your shoulders, feeling warm and all sorts of nice. Not like how girl hands feel, but good- maybe better. So you tried to do what he was doing, lean into him, press yourself against whatever body part of his was nearest to you. It was getting kind of heated, y’know? And you weren’t thinking, getting swept up in the moment and shit, so you just thought ‘fuck it’ and reached to undo the belt of his cargo shorts. As if it was on instinct, he flinched away from your touch and broke the kiss, but before you could get to feeling that you were the idiot who fucked up the moment, he chuckled, a smirk spreading across his kiss sore lips, “Sorry, dude. I’ve gotten so many dick punches- I'm all jumpy an’ shit.” And you laughed, standing there in that bathroom with the first guy you kissed.

[late-to-the-party-81]

For your celebration. ❤️

Sex pollen/Fuck or die

With...😏

Let's (never) speak of this again

AN: tee hee Navy- thank you for this thot that ended up quite crackish!

Beta’d by @lunarbuck, dividers by @firefly-graphics, moodboard and banner by me.

Main Master list | Challenge Master list

Summary: When you and Sam get trapped in a bunker after getting hit with an aphrodisiac gas, you redefine the boundaries of your friendship.

Relationship: Sam Wilson x Agent Reader 

Word Count: 1.4k

CW: Sex Pollen, Smut, Banter, making light of a bad situation, Cheeky & charming Sam (he’s a warning), Little-Shit Bucky

“I still can’t believe… oh fuck… that we’re in this… yes! Yes! Right there!... mess.”

Sam’s cock pistoned up inside your dripping cunt, as you held onto the straps of the wingsuit. 

Thirty minutes ago this had just been a run-of-the-mill mission, but then some gas mask-wearing HYDRA goon had thrown a smoke bomb at the pair of you and closed the bulkhead door between you and the way out.

Once you’d finished coughing and realised that you were neither unconscious or apparently dying, you’d felt lucky.

“Huh. Must have been a dud, ey, Sam. Now to get out of here…”

“I’ll call the Tin Man to come down; he might be able to open it from the other side.”

Sam had got on the comms with Bucky, who’d been in another part of the bunker, while you inspected the door, seeing if you could find any weaknesses. You weren’t claustrophobic, but it was feeling a little close in the small space.

In fact, it was more than close. It was downright boiling. You unzipped your tack jacket part way to get some air circulation, but you could feel the sweat running down your neck. Your head throbbed, your pulse was strong, and why on earth did you have an ache between your legs? You turned to Sam and noticed two things straight away. 

Your friend and colleague also had sweat running down his face; he’d pulled off his goggles and was trying to wipe it away. The second thing was that the vibranium suit was doing nothing to hide the erection that was going on underneath it.

Something clicked in your brain, all the puzzle pieces coming together to show something horrifying. 

“Umm, Sam? What are the chances that the smoke bomb wasn’t a dud and that it had some kind of aphrodisiac smoke in it? Cos currently you look how I feel.”

“I’m sure we’ll be fine. Bucky’ll get here soon and break us out…”

“No can do, Captain Bird. It’s gonna take at least an hour to get to where you guys are. And the jet computers are reading anomalies in both your vitals. Nothing too bad to worry about, but if you have been hit by some kind of drug. I think it’s going to get a whole lot worse before it gets better.”

You dropped your head back against the bulkhead door with a thud.

“Great. So not only am I trapped inside a metal box for an hour, I’m going to have the major horn and be totally frustrated.”

Sam looked at you.

“Hey, I’m going through the same thing here. At least it’s not so visible for you. I wasn’t expecting to be showing off what I’m packing while trapped in a room with you.”

You couldn’t stop your giggle before running a blatant eye over him.

“I don’t think you’ve got anything to worry about, though.”

Sam raised his eyebrow in return and grinned.

“I know I’ve got nothing to worry about.” He strode towards you, cocky and self-confident, and damn this drug barreling through your system for making you like it. Totally the drug. “Never had a single complaint.”

The beat of your heart echoed in your underwear, so strong it was bordering on painful.

“Sam…” There was a rasp to your voice. “It hurts, Sam.” 

His playful expression immediately dropped, replaced by one of concern. He pressed the back of his hand on your forehead and you moaned at his touch.

“You’re burning up. Fuck. Buck! What are our options?”

“As I see it, you got two. You either try and ride it out til I get to you. Or… you help each other out. I doubt it will be long before you’re struggling too, Sam.”

“Double fuck!”

You let out a bark of laughter. You’d never heard Sam swear so often in such a short space of time.

“Was that an offer, Cap? Cos I can tell you, I’m close to folding here.” You drove your point home by fully removing your tack jacket and throwing it to the floor, leaving your chest heaving in your tank top. You were dizzy and finding it hard to breathe. You closed your eyes, just for a second, while you tried to find your equilibrium.

You knew when Sam moved even closer; you could smell him. Smell his sweat, his heat. His hand, rough and calloused, cupped your cheek and your legs almost gave out.

“Hey. I got you. I got you. I feel it too, sugar. Feel like I’m gonna explode. What do you wanna do? Your decision. We’re two grown-ups. We’re friends. We can be mature about this.”

You opened your eyes and looked up into Sam’s. You could see the concern, the softness, and part of you wished this were ‘real’.

“Sounds like you’re eager, Sam. See something you like?” You were trying to inject levity into the situation, but your attempt was derailed by the pained groan that came out of your mouth instead of a chuckle.

“At the risk of sounding crass, you’re an attractive woman, and I’m not blind. But I do respect our friendship.” You bit your lower lip and nodded. 

“Same, Sam. Same. Okay… okay… um… let’s try to keep this…um… professional.”

“If that’s what you need. Lemme sit down. This is getting a bit uncomfortable.”

He slid his body down the wall and splayed his legs. His hand hovered over the fly of his suit.

“Can I? I mean, if we’re gonna do this, I sorta have to.”

You took a deep breath and nodded. You turned slightly away from him and decided to shuck your own pants. The sound of two zips being lowered was loud in the air, along with Sam’s gasp of relief as the pressure he’d been feeling lessened a bit.

With your lower half bare except for your soaked cotton panties, you stepped over to him, trying not to stare too much at his cock. Straddling him, you lowered yourself, pulling your underwear to the side, and sinking down.

Your twin moans filled the air, and you rested your forehead against his and took hold of his straps.

“I… apologise now… for… anything inappropriate… I might say.” Sam’s voice was gravelly, a timbre that had you shuddering slightly on top of him.

“Yeah… feels so fucking good, doesn’t it? Should I move?”

“Please, sugar. I’m dying.”

You rode him, fingers a death grip on his suit and his broad hands spanning your waist. You breathed into each other’s necks, a mutual silent agreement that kissing was off the cards. You had hoped that when you came you’d feel better, but no such luck. Sam seemed to have a similar issue. You felt him cum inside you, his hips bucking beneath your own, but he stayed rock hard.

“I still can’t believe… oh fuck… that we’re in this… yes! Yes! Right there!... mess.”

“I still can’t believe that… Christ!… I get to fuck you, but it’s under these shitty circumstances.”

You grinned into his neck.

“Thought about it a lot then, Cap?”

He chuckled back.

“I plead the fifth… oh yes, sugar! Gonna make me cum again. Gonna fill you up…”

“You’ve got a filthy mouth on you, Sam!” You upped your pace and gripped him as you did.

“And… you…love it.”

How was he still so cheeky and charming? You’d experienced it on a low level before, but now he’d turned it up to 11. You knew the only reason you hadn’t combusted was due to the drug running through your veins.

“Take me out on a date first.”

“Was that an offer, sugar? Cos I’m close to folding here…”

You lifted your head, looking at him properly, seeing both the ecstasy and sincerity etched across his handsome features.

“Fuck it.”

You pressed your lips to his, feeling him immediately accept your kiss and deepen it. His hands moved from your waist then, one shifting to the back of your head and the other dipping between you to your clit. Only the briefest of touches and you were cumming again, crying out into his mouth as your spasming pussy brought him to his own end as well.

The pair of you sagged against each other, dragging in deep lungfuls of air.

“Tell you what, Sam, you can take me out on a date on one condition. Let’s never speak of this again.”

“Deal, sugar.”

“Am I allowed to talk about it?”

You and Sam looked at each other in shock as you both realised the comm was still open before shouting out in unison.

“BUCKY!”

Tag list: @christywantspizza @jobean12-blog @tuiccim @yarnforbrains @sidepartskinnyjeans @flordeamatista @krissy25 @bodeckersdiamonddoll @goldylions @ohsymphony @luxeavenger @wheezy-stucky @doasyoudesireandlive @chemtrails-club @talia-rumlow

[deva-arts]

nate being the only doctor makes me wonder what he's had to do for the others before

Nate does a lot for the crew. (Also woo look at his human disguise!)

When he's not actively treating or checking on them, he's constantly working to compare studies and test data to understand how to treat his friends, seeing as they have widely different genetic makeups and could react in ways that are *catastrophically* unexpected.

He can't use human rules when working on them, which greatly complicates things when he's educated in treating humans. Sera and Vince naturally have nucleated blood cells for greater oxygen input since they're always in rigorous activity, but this is a sign of leukemia or other major deficiency in humans. How do drugs interact with their bodies? what reaction will their immune systems have? do they have an intolerance to certain chemical developments?

This is partly why Vincent underwent so much testing and experimentation- to catalogue and document an atlas for the reproduction and understanding of this hybrid Variant species, and how every facet of its anatomy works in that respect. Like a rough draft you don't care about messing up, and use only to learn from.

Sorry Vince.

It's a wonder how Nathaniel was able to successfully recompile enough information to save his friends at all. It's a lot of stress on one guy with no nurses! That goes without saying for Amon (who is a beastshifter) Sonia... (Who is a living chemical synthesis lab) The various other people who end up joining... (Who shall remain incognito)

...Yikes.

He has likely seen all of them naked at least once, due to emergencies. He's extremely professional, so it's like it never happened... But it's still never fun to have to use that kind of ER protocol on your injured friends and associates.

Everyone except for Vincent, since V never lets Nathaniel treat him for anything, even when he needs it.

Instead, everyone caught a harrowing and unwanted glimpse of Vincent when he landed back home after streaking in the rain. He now flies with his pants duct-taped on. And goggles. For the glare and the overwhelming surplus of bugs he slams into at twice the speed of a f1 car.

[gorogues]

Fictober 2023

Prompt number #25 Fanfiction Fandom: Flash Rogues Rating: T – Teen and up Warnings: Profanity.

Day Twenty-Five: “Do I look like I knew that?”

“Can’t wait to see their place, mate.  I bet it’s all in a ridiculous green and yellow striped colour scheme, and probably has ice skates all over.”

Len was in a far less chipper mood than Digger, but was nonetheless glad to have someone tagging along for backup during a visit to his sister’s house.

“No.  It looks pretty normal, but still…he lives there.”

The duo parked their car down the street and walked to the house, but Len suddenly stopped when they stood out front and could see partially into the living room window: there were indoor growing lights inside the house.

“What the hell..?” Len exclaimed in outraged disbelief.  “Is that motherfucker growing weed in the place he shares with Lisa?!”

“I think he’s more like a sisterfu—” Digger began, but Len’s head whipped around to glower at him before he could finish, and he quickly went silent. 

Len ran to the front door and rang the doorbell more times than was necessary, and Lisa soon answered with a happy smile and an attempted hug.  “Lenny!”

But Len was on a mission now, and not interested in any social niceties.  “Where is he, and where are the drugs?”

 “He’s in his lab, and what drugs?” she said with a very strange look.

“The weed he’s growing in your living room!  I thought you two were smarter than that, Lisa!”

She began laughing and gestured for the others to follow her to the living room.  There, she pointed to a grow-op which looked nothing like cannabis nor any other kind of substance they were familiar with.

“He learned about the existence of spinning top peppers recently, and has gotten very into them,” Lisa said with a slight rolling of eyes.  “You know what he’s like when something catches his interest, but it’s all pretty innocuous and I think it’s kinda cute.”

“Come again?  Spinning top peppers?” Digger asked with confusion.  “That’s a euphemism, right?”

“They’re actually called that, because they’re shaped like miniature tops.  Check it out.”

Len leaned over to look at the plants and growled under his breath, because the peppers did in fact look like tiny tops.  “Goddammit.  Him and his fuckin’ tops.”

“You have your quirks, and he has his,” Lisa shrugged, though this didn’t improve Len’s foul mood much, as he hated any and all comparisons with his nemesis.

“I’d be careful with those, because they’re actually fairly spicy,” she warned as Digger not-so-subtly tried to pick one.  “Roscoe’s also been trying to crossbreed peppers to make them even hotter, though we don’t know if the experiments have worked yet.”

“Speak of the devil,” Len muttered as he heard footsteps coming up from the basement, and Roscoe soon peered around the doorway.  He was wearing goggles and some kind of protective cover-all suit, and was clearly looking for something.

“Is he here yet?” Roscoe asked cautiously.

“Yes, sweetie, and he’d love to see what you’ve been working on!” she replied cheerfully.

“Nope,” Len said, but he was ushered down into the basement by his sister, and he was only mostly certain she wasn’t sending him there to be murdered by a guy in a strange kill suit.

“Put these on,” Roscoe told them as they descended the stairs, handing them several pairs of goggles which hung along the steps.  They could smell his work before they reached the basement, or more accurately, could taste it: both Len and Digger coughed a bit from the volatile pepper oils in the air.

“What the hell is all this, you lunatic?” Len demanded, though Roscoe didn’t seem offended.

“I am purifying capsaicin extract for various purposes, both offensive and culinary.”

“He means he’s making spicy liquid from the peppers,” Lisa explained helpfully when the others looked confused.

“Oh great, he’s one of those guys who makes his own hot sauce,” Len muttered to Digger, who chuckled loudly.

“Not just for eating.  I am also creating a payload for a line of pepper-based tops, which will spray capsaicin extract when deployed.  It’s non-lethal, but I would like to see the Flash keep running with liquified capsaicin sauce or pepper spray in his eyes,” Roscoe said with boastful pride.  “If I can’t increase the intensity of the spinning top peppers, I plan to develop a custom mix with spicier peppers for maximum impact.”

“Well, okay,” Len replied, genuinely impressed by one of his nemesis’ pet projects for once.  Not that he’d ever say so.

“I dunno, mate,” Digger said, picking up a nearby top to squint at it.  “Can you really get that stuff in Flasher’s eyes while he’s running?”

Roscoe’s eyes widened under his goggles.  “Don’t touch that!”

Without warning -- as far as Digger was concerned, anyway -- the top suddenly exploded in his face, spewing hot sauce everywhere.  His own goggles protected him from the worst of it, but some of the pepper extract splashed into his mouth and nose and he shrieked with distressed anger as he flailed aimlessly in pain.

“Why would you touch it?!  I just explained the entire concept to you!” Roscoe shouted as he and Lisa searched for towels to clean him off, and everyone coughed from the fumes.

“How was I supposed to know that, you blighter?!  I like picking things up!” Digger protested, spitting out everything he could expel from his mouth.  His eyes ran with involuntary tears from the heat of the sauce, so Lisa led him up the stairs to get fresh air and some milk for his burning tongue.

“Not bad, Dillon,” Len said as they hurried behind them, which was the most complimentary he would ever be towards his de facto brother-in-law.  “That’ll stop the Flash right in his tracks, at least if he’s stupid enough to get his head near it…so I give it a fifty-fifty chance.”

“Thank you,” Roscoe replied in a crisp tone, trying and failing to keep his own eyes from watering from the intense pepper oils.  He turned his face away with the faint hope that Len couldn’t see any tears.

“But I’m gonna warn ya, and you need to listen carefully,” Len said seriously.  “As soon as Mick hears about all this, you’ll never get him out of your house.”

[batneko]

Another twitter thread I'm reposting here. Since it's mumarou month I'm going to try and focus on them.

💕

Basic set-up: Mumen's beta, Garou is alpha, everything else is as canon. So, a few months after their disastrous first meeting, Mumen finds Garou and another alpha yelling at each other in the street.

Betas don't have a great sense of smell compared to the other two, so when Mumen can smell Garou from a few feet away he realizes that something is wrong. Garou is in rut. And since he's so young, it's likely his first one.

(for the purposes of this au, ruts happen every six months and last no more than three days, usually less. Alphas can take drugs to avert them but it's considered "weak" and "un-alpha")

So Garou being very close to fighting a civilian is probably (hopefully) a result of all the aggressive hormones suddenly flooding his system to a degree he's never experienced before. Mumen was already going to intervene but now he's worried for different reasons.

The other guy is an asshole, but he clearly doesn't know how badly Garou can hurt him. Even though Mumen knows (from Saitama and Genos) that Garou's not exactly a bad guy, he isn't sure how much control Garou has. Mumen feels he has a duty to stop this fight.

It goes… okay. It works, at least. Garou gets flustered when he's reminded of what he did to Mumen, and the other guy pulls a "I've got better things to do than kick your ass!" once Mumen points out he is gearing up to fight a TEENAGER.

Mumen offers to give Garou a ride home, and Garou tries to refuse. But Mumen keeps insisting it's no trouble until Garou is forced to admit that he's… kind of… between addresses at the moment.

Mumen wants to help, and Garou - despite his pride - wants to BE helped. When Mumen offers to get him a hotel room, Garou huffs and puffs, but agrees.

It's not JUST the motel room either. Mumen buys him food, a change of clothes, and a big bottle of lube. Garou tells himself it's just the association that makes him think of Mumen when he uses it. What kind of alpha fantasizes about some dull average-looking beta?

Garou's gone by the time Mumen comes by on the third day. Mumen figures that's the end of it and contents himself with the knowledge he helped someone who needed it. But Garou's not done with him.

Garou did the math and figured out how much Mumen must have spent on him, and he's sure a c-class hero doesn't make enough to just shrug that off (he's right but Mumen keeps a budget so he'd be fine). How can Garou pay him back, though? Mumen wouldn't accept dirty money.

Then Garou remembers that bounties exist. And when Mumen checked into the motel he'd taken off his helmet and goggles and borrowed Garou's shirt so he wouldn't be recognized. Maybe the reverse could work too.

Mumen doesn't immediately jump to "I've been robbed" when he can't find his spare helmet or one of his uniform shirts. The goggles he has lots of and doesn't even realize one is missing. He DOES however notice right away when he gets a huge deposit to his bank account.

He figures it must have been a mistake. The bounty reward must have belonged to another hero and someone messed up the payment. When he calls the bounty office they're like "but… you came in yourself? You said you WANTED to be paid through your hero association account?"

Mumen still doesn't realize it's Garou until he gets a description, including unusually prominent alpha fangs. Only one person like that would feel they owe Mumen money.

Garou didn't think that one bounty was enough, but the next time he comes in they're waiting for him. Mumen told the staff it was a friend of his, so they just tell him they've been specifically instructed to pay him cash. No debate. Cash in hand.

Garou figures there's no point being sneaky anymore and goes over to Mumen's place. And since Mumen isn't home, he breaks in again and sits there waiting. It's not a nice thing to do, but Garou's feeling peevy, and the neighbors would have stared anyway.

Mumen is NOT pleased when he gets back. That, plus stealing his clothes, leads to a heated discussion that veers VERY close to argument territory. And Garou flatly refuses to keep the money. He Will Not Budge on this issue. The money is for MUMEN, that's why he got it!

Mumen… hates to admit it, but he could use it. Budgeting is one thing, but it's nice to have wiggle room. Be able to buy food you LIKE instead of food that is cheap and filling. Replace tires BEFORE they pop. In the end, he gives in.

BUT in return he wants his clothes back (Garou hesitates on this point and isn't quite sure why), and to feed Garou once in a while. They should get to know each other, after all. Clear the air.

And so… that's what happens. Garou pops up when he feels like it, usually with food to contribute, sometimes with money, never with any warning. Mumen doesn't actually mind too much because, after all, he LIKES some excitement in his life.

Time passes. They become friends, more or less. When/if I write this, there'd be a lot of small bits of just the two of them hanging out and talking.

After several months, Mumen ends up injured and his doctor orders him to take it easy for a while. Garou, knowing Mumen CANNOT be stopped from going out heroing, makes some noise about wishing he could go on a trip but feeling too awkward to go alone.

I can't decide where they should go. At first I was thinking a mountain resort during the off season, where there's nothing to do but hike, and Garou's confident he can just scoop Mumen up and carry him if he thinks he's overdoing it.

And then GAROU is the one who turns his ankle, and they end up spending most of the week borrowing movies from the local library and watching them in bed, falling asleep next to each other more often than not.

BUT if Mumen's got one of those fancy 3d-printed casts, they could still go to the beach! Beach has lots of opportunity for… lots of things.

(at this point I ran a poll, which tied, so I flipped a coin)

Already talked about most of this. It's the off season, they go for a hike and Garou hurts himself, but luckily this lets Mumen take it easy the way the doctor wanted him to in the first place.

But one other major thing (though they don't realize it's major at the time) happens. All of the (few) other guests are couples, and Mumen gets along well enough with a pair of newlywed betas.

One day he runs into one of them in the hall, who says "I don't know how you do it." "Do what?" "Put up with an alpha in your bed every night!"

Mumen already thought everybody assumed he and Garou were a couple, but he didn't want to clarify unless they said something because he'd look too defensive. He intends to calmly explain that she's mistaken. Instead he launches into a several-minute rant about harmful stereotypes.

And since this was right outside their room, Garou hears the whole thing through the door.

Garou's touched, but this also gets him thinking. What DOES he like? He doesn't have enough experience to really tell. His fantasies are always sort of a jumble and he never experiments when he's alone. Maybe…

Once they get home and Garou's alone again (I like the idea he lives at the dojo. There's no power or water anymore, but it's shelter, and he pretends the old man doesn't know about it (he definitely does)), he starts trying new things. It goes well.

So well, in fact, that Garou doesn't notice the signs his rut is coming up again. Luckily Mumen had been keeping an eye on the calendar and gently suggests Garou get a prescription for rut-blockers. Mumen tries not to stereotype people, but he's still surprised Garou agrees.

We're gonna assume OPMworld has better healthcare than the US (which isn't exactly hard to do) so all Garou has to do to get the prescription is get a general checkup and ask for them. It's not exactly a PROBLEM, but Garou does end up getting pretty peeved off.

when he tells the doctor what he wants, the guy keeps asking about Garou's first rut. If it was unusual, if it lasted a long time, if it was painful… Garou can't figure it out at first, but the doctor KEEPS ON ASKING the same repetitive questions for several minutes.

Finally he realizes the doctor just can't wrap his head around the idea a typical healthy alpha would want to stop his rut. Alphas don't… DO that. Except they do, of course, all the time, but nobody assumes they would. Being horny and angry is how alphas ALWAYS feel, right?

but in the end Garou gets the prescription and everything seems like it's going to be fine. Now all he has to do is remember to take the pills for two weeks (and figure out how to tell Mumen he's got feelings for him). So, of course, that's when the Hero Association finds him.

Garou doesn't have a phone, and he comes and goes as he wants. Mumen doesn't realize he's missing for several days. He gets the call that Garou's prescription is ready to be picked up. Garou doesn't come by. He goes to the dojo to look for him, and Garou isn't there.

finally Mumen finds out what happened… and realizes Garou is about to go into rut while in jail. Someone's gonna get killed.

Mumen rallies everyone he can think of who might be sympathetic (and Saitama drags King along) and successfully gets Garou released - for now. The Hero Association is in enough trouble that it probably won't be hard to get Garou a job instead of a prison sentence.

in the course of all this, Mumen had… maybe… fibbed a little bit. He said Garou was his boyfriend. It sounded more solid than "we're friends and I think we're both attracted to each other but we haven't talked about it for a lot of reasons."

Nobody questions it when Garou's released and immediately hugs Mumen so hard that his back cracks. Or when Mumen presses his lips against Garou's cheek and keeps them there for a while. But both of them think about it. A lot.

So much so that Garou asks for one of Mumen's dirty shirts to take with him while he waits out his now too-late-to-stop rut. They don't talk about it. They don't know what to say.

It's hard. For both of them. They just sort of fell into acting like a couple without thinking about it. Being together feels good, but… Garou comes and goes like a stray cat. And Mumen likes the surprise but a relationship needs stability.

Garou's never BEEN in a relationship before and his legal situation is up in the air. Neither of them wants to start a physical thing not knowing if they'll have to say goodbye in a week.

And then there's the social aspect. That beta at the resort was only the first one to SAY anything. Mumen knows what people will think about him if he and Garou are openly dating. Beta/beta is normal. Beta/omega is not uncommon. Even alpha/alpha happens more often than this.

It doesn't help that he and Garou look - and act, for the most part - like walking stereotypes. Mumen is average all over: height, weight, looks. He's not a strong personality but he's not submissive either. He's a peacemaker.

And Garou is big and brash and loud. Quick to anger, enjoys fighting, but protective of those who need it. The problem is everybody's always assumed he acts like that BECAUSE he's an alpha, not that he might have REASON to be angry.

At heart, Garou is a nerd. And it might not be obvious, but Mumen is a jock. They compliment each other. They're two halves of a whole dork. But sometimes it's hard knowing no one else will ever see that.

So when Garou finally comes back with Mumen's thoroughly-washed shirt, Mumen has been dwelling on all this for three days straight. Garou hadn't been able to think much during his rut, but he's got enough to worry about already with his lack of experience (and self-esteem).

Mumen takes the shirt. Feeds Garou a meal. Puts on the episodes of Justice Man Garou missed. They don't talk about it.

The next day Garou's called in to the hero association. Since [webcomic spoilers], there aren't too many heroes left holding a grudge, and the HA kinda violated his rights by preventing him from getting his medicine. They agree not to press charges if he doesn't, and signs an NDA.

in the course of conversation, someone mentions that Mumen Rider already told them they were a couple. Garou is flustered but rolls with it. He figures Mumen had a reason. On the way out, Garou asks a staff member if they think it's weird? Him and Mumen?

The guy says "No, we all kinda figured he was a masochist anyway." Garou flips out and yells at him that 1. Mumen is NOT a masochist, 2. it would be none of your DAMN business if he was, and 3. Garou will NEVER hurt him again. He'd rather die.

and now that he's all worked up, Garou storms off to find Mumen and FUCKING TALK ABOUT THIS before he loses his nerve.

It's easy to find Mumen. You just follow the sounds of trouble and Mumen's either doing the same or already in the middle of it. This time, Garou finds Mumen facing down three alphas. Garou throws himself between them and snarls "HE'S MINE."

The trio don't know if he means he wants to fight Mumen or mate him, but they do know they're outclassed and run for it. Now alone with Mumen and coming down off his adrenaline high, Garou apologizes. "I don't know if that's true. I know I'm yours, but not if you're mine."

Mumen just hugs him and says, "Of course I am. I have been for a long time."

This isn't THE-END-the-end, but most of what follows is smutty

That first night is mostly a lot of exploring each other's bodies and it goes VERY well, as far as these things do. Given all their not-talking up to this point, Mumen doesn't want to take chances, so he insists on a sit-down conversation about sex the next time they're alone.

There's the usual level of incorrect assumptions. Garou thought that The Real Deal is something you work up to in a relationship, and also that there IS a Real Deal in the first place. He hides it, but Mumen's pretty surprised Garou had tried (and enjoyed!) fingering himself.

For the most part they agree on boundaries all that, but there's one… LARGE issue that they can't avoid. Garou's big, even for an alpha. It's going to take a LOT of prep for Mumen to take him, and he might not ever enjoy it.

Garou insists (mostly truthfully) that he's fine without it and he likes all the other stuff, and doesn't need to try it at all. Mumen's willing, but he's afraid that Garou will like it too much to be truly satisfied by anything else once he's had it. So they put it off.

Months pass. They're happy. Garou assumes that he's just never going to top and that's fine. But secretly Mumen has bought a few toys and been getting used to the feeling, figuring out how long it takes… and looking up alternatives, just in case.

One tip he finds online for getting a partner through ruts is to put a toy between your thighs and let the alpha go to town on that for a few rounds. But he also finds videos without the toys, just thighs. Well, those muscles of his are probably good for more than just cycling.

And they are. They VERY MUCH are.

They do eventually try the traditional alpha-top method. It's good! They both like it. But it takes a solid hour of prep and Mumen's sore for two days afterward. It's not going to be a nightly thing.

Garou likes Mumen's mouth and hands and thighs (and cock) enough that he hardly feels like he's missing out. They both like surprises, they both like variety.

And he hated going into rut anyway so he makes sure to keep track and takes his meds.

It's not like everything is perfect. Relationships take effort. Garou doesn't like being tied down and Mumen takes a while to shake the idea he's not good enough. But they're both crazy about each other, and they know their own flaws. They're always able to work things out.

Garou does track down his parents so he can introduce Mumen out of sheer spite. Bang shows up and "politely" introduces himself on his own.

Mumen's got his own reasons for not wanting to make introductions, but he's not going to NOT invite his family to their wedding, so it happens eventually.

Garou wears a collar. He likes it. When people ask his answer varies between "it looks great on me" and "because fuck anyone who thinks I shouldn't." But there's also a part of him that really really likes the fact that someone WANTS to own him.

Mumen incorporates a collar-like design into his hero costume just so people know he's definitely taken, but he opts for a traditional ring instead.

They have trouble adopting, sadly, because heroing isn't a stable career, and because a lot of the agencies don't think an alpha/beta couple will last. Nevermind that they've been a couple for a decade and married for five years.

Eventually they manage to adopt directly from a young omega who was worried an agency would split up their twins. Two babies is a lot of work but they were prepared for that. They LIKE a challenge.

The End! Thank you for reading!

[sadomatica]

do you have any oceliquid thoughts to share bc I'm so obsessed with them

Oh my god what thoughts DONT I have about them and their beautiful marriage. Follow me under the cut for this one cause it's gonna get long and it's gonna get wicked.

Man what can I even say about these hoes. Together forever and never apart for real. Theres so much left unexplained in the weird scattered years they spend together spanning those three decades, so little canonical elaboration on how they become so closely allied in the era leading up to shadow moses, and yeah the reddit bros like to fill in the gaps like "ermmm mutual interests and🤓🤓ocelot is le master manipulator liquid wuz his pawn and he knew his plan all along🤓🤓" and like, okay sure whatever, but i also raise you, if you'll put your fujo goggles on: the second he first saw eli in 84, before everything, before the hypno-doublethink-brainfuck whatever started wearing off and he eventually discovered the truth of his lineage, some weird kind of fucked up love immediately started festering inside him for that angry little boy. It's this instinctual, irrepressible desire stemming directly from his love for bibo, twisted and mutated by 9 long years of endless pining and mindfuckery and drug abuse, and ofc he doesnt fully understand everything for what it is until way later- but not understanding the feelings doesnt stop him (which. when has it ever with this guy) and, yeah you probably know where I'm going with this.

At the very LEAST I like to imagine them developing a weird little bond over a mutual interest in ruining Kaz's day, maybe eli (suspend disbelief/imagine they put him on mood stabilizers) starts enjoying spending time around ocelot bc he treats him like an Adult and doesnt talk down to him like a kid and has always has good candy in his office, and maybe in my personal fantasy world ocelot can't resist that "Anything's Legal In International Waters" temptation revelation if you know what I'm saying. But I'll save that for another ask bc I know everyone's not the craziest about my noncelot headcanons. Hml if you are tho.

Of course if youre a Normal Person Eyeroll Tm, theres the whole unopened can of worms of liquid (NOW LEGAL!) in iraq, weakened and brainwashed and tortured, rescued by the us government supposedly but, again...I like to think that if ocelot didnt personally rescue him he definitely orchestrated someone else doing so for him. Like cmon. 1994? Ten years after their first meeting? It's just too poetic for me to not make that conclusion!!!

Literally it's ridiculous how much juice there is for them. You see all that bullshit I just yapped? That's only HALF THEIR TIMELINE. I literally feel fucking BAD for writing that much dude but holy shit if you're intrigued enough to want to know my foxhound era/why liquid da arm all the sudden thoughts....pls lmk. But yea I'll shut my trap now HEHEH.

Tl;dr ocelot gave eli his own walkman on motherbase preloaded with a cassette of basic glam metal he thought hed like and it touched his demented bpd heart so deeply that shit went to his grave with him at shadow moses

[pineappleciders]

Hi! Can I please request the gang Sunny, Aubrey, Basil, Mari, Hero, and Kel, with an s/o who has children? That their s/o is a teen parent who had them when they were really young but is already a really great parent.

RW OMORI gang with a teenage parent S/O

includes: SUNNY, BASIL, AUBREY, KEL, HERO and MARI

pretend mari is fine btw

SUNNY

i think he'd be pretty chill with it

he feels kinda bad that you have to take care of a kid so young, so he'll do anything to help

has no problem watching the little fella while you're busy, and even picked up a few jobs around the town to try and help out with bills

i can't decide if he's either really bad at making the kid stop crying or really good at it

gets up at 2 am in the morning and trudges to your house all tired if you text him that you need a hand

takes the kid to parks and the three of you like to have picnics

he has a lot of fatherly instincts with the kid, and the two of them end up drawing together a lot

he is a little clueless though. he doesn't know much about babies or children but he tries his best

BASIL

amazing dad 10/10

he's a little awkward around the kid at first, but he has an incredible soft spot for them

he teaches them a lot about gardening, and they draw together

he bought another photo album solely for pictures of you, him and the kiddo together

they talk about flowers and art and stuff together

he panics a bit at first if the baby cries, and he doesn't really know what to do

if they're a baby and he had to change a diaper, he'll put on gloves and goggles and everything like it's hazardous

puts their drawings up on the fridge in his house

you trust POLLY so often if you're both at school and your parents are busy, POLLY takes care of them

he really likes the idea of living with you and the kid in the future

AUBREY

she doesn't know how to feel at first

a child??!! how are you going to juggle a kid, school and a job all at once???!!!? what about bills????'!!!?!?

over time she grows closer to the kid, and although she herself is a delinquent, she makes sure to nail it into their head that drugs and alcohol are bad

takes up a part-time job as a pizza deliverer to help out

she doesn't want the baby in her own house because of the state of it, so if she needs to watch the kid while you're gone then she'll usually do it at your house

she's kind of worried about bringing the kid to meet the hooligans, but she knows that they care and won't be reckless with a child, especially AUBREY's (it's technically your kid but she sees it more as both of yours)

the kid and the hooligans really get along and they get into all sorts of trouble as the kid gets older (you scold her for it but you know they have good intentions)

a part of her is worried she could grow up to be like her mom, so she's determined to treat the kid with lots of respect and be a great mother.

KEL

although KEL has matured over the years, there's still a part of him that's a little clueless

when SALLY was born, KEL grew a lot of knowledge on how to take care of a baby

he isn't good at getting the baby to stop crying, but he tries

(when he eventually gets it he's so hyped he throws a party n everything)

SALLY and your kid have playdates i don't make the rules

he ends up asking HERO for some advice, and whenever KEL is babysitting them at his house, HERO and the child end up becoming friends

KEL buys one of those backpack things for babies where you can put them on your back or chest and carries the kid around like that

he teaches them to play basketball and other sports from a young age

hc that your parents have a huge soft spot for KEL so if he like,, shows up to your parents house one day asking them to watch the baby they have to comply because he's a sweetheart

HERO

when you have two younger siblings, you learn a lot about children

he's super great at everything. if you wake up late in the day, tired and stressed because you have to get the kid to daycare or change their diaper, you bet your ass that he's already done it

loves making you breakfast, and makes little bear-shaped pancakes and such for the kiddo

you all have picnics a lot

he loves kids, and doesn't like seeing you stressed so he helps out as much as he can

you tell him over and over again that it's your kid and he doesn't need to do all of this

but he's already canceling this semester of college to be a full-time house wife so you can get through your semester

he is very much a dad. like the daddest dad you've ever seen he loves doing things with the kids like going to the beach

he likes to hold them on his back and play airplane

MARI

motherly instinct it through the roof

MARI never really decided wether or not she wanted kids in the future, and sometimes she might act as more of a big sister than a mom

but she still has intense instincts to protect and care for the kid

the little shit is gonna grow up to be as devious as MARI,, so now you have two little pranksters around

she reads them a bedtime story every night no matter how old they are, and she gets a little sad when they become a tween and tell her they're 'too old' for bedtime stories

i don't. Know why but i think MARI would love to teach them skills like sewing, knitting, baking etc.

she is an amazing helper, sometimes too much

you have to tell her time and time again to stop overworking herself but she's so anxious with the kid

as they grow into a child-teen, she gets more relaxed because they don't need constant supervision

she still sees SUNNY as her baby brother even if he's older now so the kiddo and SUNNY have playdates together

[herculesgarcia]

Wrote this for the Drug Cartel AU @cheshire-shuntaro created, in which Hérc is one of the chemist working for Hatter, creating drugs... because he has no other choice, basically. ~

When Hércules had obtained his Master's, lab safety had been the most important thing. In fact, you couldn't even start working on any experiments until you had passed a shitty little course, for which you had to watch dozens of videos of people (most likely PhD students obliged to do these kind of things in exchange for credits) pretending to be in dangerous situations.

"Oh, no! He dropped some polypyrrole in his eyes, what should he do!? Well, if you've read the SDS, the Safety Data Sheet, you would know you have to rinse your eyes with pure water (no, water from the sink doesn't really work) for fifteen minutes and...'

Y una mierda.

He guessed it was different in legal labs, but in El Sombrerero's Cocaine Factory where he was nothing but a mere Oompa Loompa, dancing to the psychotic tunes of his boss' delusions, nobody wore gloves, or safety goggles. A few lab coats could be seen here and there, but they were stained, with holes in them from chemical exposure, and most of them the wrong sizes. As if they had stole them from a factory making crazy scientist costumes for children instead of from an actual laboratory equipment manufacturer.

It was a mess. Dirty, disgusting, which made it not so different from Hatter's house, in Hércules' opinion: a mishmash of different objects that were there just. To be. To show others he could pay them, to boast.

But the coca was real pure, crystalline white, and that was what matter.

'Potassium permanganate...' Do not use for products which come in direct contact with the skin. It can cause corrosion, which produces an irreversible damage to the skin; namely, visible necrosis through the epidermis and into the dermis. Delayed or immediate effects can be expected after short or long-term exposure. Careful with how you dispose of it, it can pollute watercourses... 'Sodium permanganate.' May intensify fire, because it is an oxidizer. Do not swallow. Severe skin burns. Toxic to aquatic life. Do not eat when handling this product. Wash your hands after handling.

Hércules repeated what he had to be careful about inside his head, not out loud. Every single time he had tried to make the other chemists a little bit more aware of the dangers these products could actually pose, he had been laughed at. Well, they could be blinded, for all he cared, but that wouldn't happen to him. He was, also, one of the very few who had actually studied for this, who had a passion for chemistry and research, despite the very small success rates.

Synthesis. The creation of molecules that had never existed before. The fact that he could play God, up to a certain point. Improving the properties of already existing natural materials or creating them from... nothing.

Making things better.

Making the world a better place.

But was he doing that, really? When he was creating cocaine, a highly addictive stimulant, that could cause chronic and acute conditions in cardiovascular health, as well as gastrointestinal problems, irritability, liver and kidney damage... death?

Had he really had a choice? Did people, ever?

If his father had never gotten himself involved in the business...

If he hadn't promised Andro's hand in marriage to Hatter as a way of securing their situation before his death...

If Hércules wasn't so fucking scared of what could happen...

Then, maybe, there would be a way out.

But, they were running out of time. And the next batch needed to be ready soon. And people couldn't feed themselves and their families out of ifs...

'Come on, boys! Let get this show on the road!"

[hahahmitski]

Hugh and Claire

I missed her a lot. Usually was would kiss each other on the head and then go to sleep, but she isn't here and I hope to find her sometime soon. I heard screaming and whimpering but I was to tired to check it out, plus it was probably Horace anyway (sorry Horace) . Then Millard knocked on my door before entering. "Hugh, are you awake?" He said like he was worried. I was kind of confused but I turned to face him. I didn't want to talk so early in the morning. "Okay you probably want to come and see this." With a slight tremble in his voice, the kind you have to really notice or you can't tell. I simply nodded and followed him into "The Guests room" where Bronwyn, Olive and Claire sleeps in. Once I got closer I heard some yelling from in the room that was muffed. When me and Mill went inside I heard it, Claire screaming somewhere along the lines "No, No Fiona, Please don't leave us here! Hugh misses you too much! He's really sad, and we're all so sad! Please don't go!" My eyes widened at the the sight. Everyone's been acted as if Fiona never existed or just plain talked behind his back of what might of happened to Fiona. The Bird then asked me if I could talk to her and try to help her calm down. I nodded my head again still eyes wide as they could be under my goggles. Miss P and Emma pulled everyone else out of the room (I was kind of surprised that tht managed to pull Bronwyn out as well). I didn't really know how to wake Claire up so I shook her a bit. When she woke up though she rose up quickly her eyes wide as a full moon. I get a little upset to see Claire in such an overwhelmed state. She looked around the room looking for something and said quickly, "Where's Fiona?" I pulled her in the a hug. It's as if we didn't acknowledge Claire and Olive were just children and didn't help them process all of this. She started to tear up, I think she just figured out what happened, and where we are. Once she started crying I patted his back in some sort of rhythm, and whispering in her ear "everything will be okay." or just something that comforting. I so focused on trying to keep her clam, I didn't know I was crying myself. When Claire Calmed down she asked me in a soft voice, "Is Fiona going to come back?" I didn't know how to answer that, but I knew she needed reassurance. "I'm trying my best, but we'll find her... I promise." Now I couldn't break that promise. It hurts to say it but I will find her despite her alive or dead. My love, if you and hear me, come back please.

P.S. After that talk with Claire she fell asleep with a slight smile on her face. Hugh slept with Claire that night hugging her softly. Once Claire and Hugh woke up they were surrounded by everyone, including Enoch. Bronwyn was smiled so wide Hugh though she was on some drug in the present. Then Claire and Hugh were excused from their jobs at Devils Acre to try and find Fiona and they had a lot of fun, despite not finding Fiona.

The reason why Claire is so worried about Fiona is because she was one of her best friends. Claire would talk a whole bunch and Fiona would listen asking questions time to time.

[werdlewrites]

Season of the Witch (Steve Harrington x OC)

Chapter Twenty-three: The Parasite

masterlist-about-patreon-ao3 share support through comments, likes, and reblogs!

UPDATED 7/22/24

summary: But he can’t fight the urge to face the aching curiosity, ripping himself away from his car to make hastyl steps down the street with eyes locked on the front door. Maybe he’ll die the moment it opens. Maybe Hopper will grab the man by the throat and demand for answers, confessions spilling out from fear or fighting back, determined to die with those secrets. Maybe it wasn't real. warnings: Hopper pov, violence, mentions of drug/pill usage wc: 2,858

He remembers.

The air is cold, heavy, and filled with a sickness unlike he has ever felt before. Unlike anything he’s ever tasted. Nothing like the dirt and blood that coated each breath during the war, far from the chemicals that poisoned his lungs, body - his home, and his family.

He could feel a tightening in his chest, attempting to seal itself off from the toxin seeking to invade - he could feel it even now, while safe from its touch. A memory of its hold reaching through boundaries to hold his curiosity, with a hidden desire to lure him closer in. It called to him in the silence - this unknown, impossible thing shimmered with light within its cage. The bars were made of something he could have only seen in nightmares - something described in dark books, and fairy tales. But this was no story to be told just before turning out the light, this looming death waiting in the shadows - a haunting presence, following him into his sleep.

He remembers.

Gun drawn, moving cautiously yet steps filled with purpose as he explores the room, eyes scanning for anything else that may have been out of place. He wasn’t welcomed in this space - they were coming for him, but from where? Every corner remains empty, his only company is the sound of a distant siren blaring, sending him a warning to run - to hide. There’s a shred of fear as a figure emerges from around the corner, the weapon pointed at them without hesitation.

A strange place, a stranger situation - but anger is overpowering, thinking of Will and what secrets this place held, and what they could have done to the boy still missing. The feeling of cotton was still fresh on his fingers as he pried it from cold, empty flesh. A hollow corpse of the fake Byers boy - a distraction piece, a lie. If not from the quarry, then where?

He remembers the pain as a needle slides through the skin of his neck, a hand to either hold him steady or conceal his rage as he begins to shout. Hopper's skin was burning, the haste of the injection making it seem as though nails were ripping his flesh apart, leaving nerves damaged and feeling more at ease once the numbness settled in. The fire spread through him like a warm, summer ocean - soothing.

The captor allowed his weight to carry the man downward, feeling the sedative wash through him with ease, slowing his heart rate until his vision began to blur. He stares up to the ceiling, watching as it fades in and out of focus, wondering if these are his last moments before a final breath falls from his lips.

The space is filled, a man in a hazmat suit stands high above him with focus zeroed in - watching, waiting for Hopper to slip away peacefully. Tightening fists at his sides show there's impatience and madness. He tests the limits by leaning in closer, studying the limp man slow to ease into a slumber on the tile floor.

Hopper remembers something..just behind those goggles meant to conceal identity. Meant to protect the man at all costs from the beast hidden beneath the building. There’s something he’s seen before, eyes he has spent an entire morning thinking about after tearing his home apart. Placing that gaze in small moments throughout his time back in Hawkin’s, they had always been filled with kindness, a peace to make you feel more at ease, and yet now he wonders how much of it had been real. He pictures them paired with a smile with words of assurance spilling forward, his hand clung tightly to a young girl at the time as she stood just at his side.

The chaos from the Fourth of July ran rampant around them, children with sparklers, and vendors shouting above the parents to advertise their food for the evening. He seemed grateful at the time - to have his daughter so well taken care of in his absence after the incident at the theater. Hopper was humble, just a man doing his job when the two kids sought out his help, and seeing her now, with brilliant eyes staring up at him with a warm smile, brought him back to a time from before. A time his heart felt a little less empty, with fewer cracks in the walls.

That had been years ago, and there’s not been a moment of doubt, or a cause for him to look over his shoulder as they crossed paths. Yet now, he sits just down the road from his house - watching. All remains quiet. Not a shadow to be seen in a window or a stray visitor at the doorstep, not a flicker of light as he moves through rooms. It was almost as if he wasn’t home, and maybe Hopper would have moved on if it hadn’t been for the Morris Marina sitting cold in the driveway.

He knows this is one of the more dumber things he has done, right there next to breaking into the lab. But in the darkness, with every blink of an eye, he sees it all. He sees the monstrous thing hidden away from all of Hawkin’s, and he sees those familiar eyes. It’s all so unsettling, his bruised knuckles shining under the sunlight of a new day as he contemplates his approach. But he can’t fight the urge to face the aching curiosity, ripping himself away from his car to make hasty steps down the street with eyes locked on the front door.

Maybe he’ll die the moment it opens. Maybe Hopper will grab the man by the throat and demand answers, confessions spilling out from fear or fighting back, determined to die with those secrets.

Maybe it wasn’t real.

But the door opens, and despite all Hopper has gone through, despite how he may feel in the moment - he wears a friendly smile. It’s when the police chief sees him without the mask, that he becomes more certain. A face once bright as the day's light, eager to greet a new guest at the door, falters the instant it sees a man who typically dawns a uniform.

“Chief?” There was a tone of confusion as he tried to pull things back together, gathering the pieces of his shattered composure to make something convincing. Had there been expectations for Hopper to forget? Was he surprised by the bold choice of coming to the source?

“Afternoon, Mr. Reid,” Hopper says, the simple greeting enough to encourage a weary smile back to the forefront.

“If you’re looking for Autumn, you’ve just missed her,” Ian comments, his form still lingering in the doorway, acting as a shield to protect his home.

“’m not here for Autumn,” he replies all too quickly. “I - well, I am, sort of. Just doin’ my job, really. Checkin’ in and seeing how things are.” A bullshit wellness check, which Ian takes a moment to contemplate before stepping aside to let the man through.

On the surface, there’s not much to process. The house is clean and well-organized. Not an ounce of dust to be seen on the railing or a smudge on the glass of the windows, letting the rays from the sun shine through undisturbed. The air was cozy, filled with the warm smell of cinnamon and he followed it through the home, studying every inch though trying to remain casual. Just a man appreciating the new scenery, not a detective trying to uncover a mystery.

“Y’said Autumn is already gone?” he asks, briefly meeting Ian’s curious gaze, too fearful to hold it for longer than a few seconds, thinking his lie may be called out before he’s had the chance to uncover anything.

“Uh,” the other began, looking throughout the home for anything that may have been out of place while Hopper slowly moved into the den. “Yeah,” he sighs out, looking all too uncomfortable with arms crossed over his chest, lingering just at the few steps that led down to the chief. “She needed some time alone. What with the funeral being today and all,”

“You goin’?” The question comes without thought, letting his mind wander freely and carry out the usual routine while his focus shifts around the space, seeking something - anything to tell a story.

“I am,” Ian states in a fairly blunt tone, taking slow steps down to his level yet not interrupting the slow and subtle inspection. “Though, can’t say Autumn is all too about it.”

Hopper frowns, but more to himself as he looks to the wide range of books that line the wall of the living room, the light pouring in to highlight every title on display for all to come through. “Why’s that?”

The other man doesn’t answer, letting the silence between them fill with tension neither of them wish to acknowledge out loud. The officer looks back, finding the girl's father nearly glaring daggers into his back though they soften, if just barely. Like a child up to no good, clearly caught before the act. “It’s personal,” he whispers. The words strangled in his throat, a possible lie or something that brought him too much discomfort to think about.

Hopper cracks a small, crooked smile as he lets out a huff of a laugh. “Teenagers, huh?” Ian says nothing, only watching as the officer studies the books, all organized by category, and it’s an odd bunch.

Inside The Machine, Auto Fundamentals, Safety Analysis, and a lot of other boring shit he glides over. Interdimensional Universe, The Science of The Mind, Quantum Consciousness, The Laws of Feeling, books on how to be a single father for god's sake. He can see just over the spines that other pages are more worn down than others - in fact, books more about his job seemed pristine, clear of wear and tear as he studied through school or freshened up on forgotten terms or practices in the field. The attention was clearly elsewhere, and he noticed.

“You sure do like t’read,” his tongue clicks the roof of his mouth as he taps at one of the few books dedicated to parenting, sending him a look of amusement. It was an attempt to ease down any suspicion that may be building, he’s unsure if it works. “I always see Autumn down at the library. Now I know it runs in the family.”

The other doesn’t respond - not right away, at least as he awkwardly shuffles in place. “Y-yeah, she’s got a ton of books upstairs.”

The chief takes that as a mental note for later, now knowing these were more unlikely ever opened by the girl unless out of curiosity. Again, he wanders. There’s a force he must apply as he moves past Ian, thinking of only hours prior, and wondering if another needle will slip through his skin, or if this time, a gun pulled to his temple. Cut out the loose end, and a persistent problem is solved.

Each breath he takes is another moment he’s grateful for, knowingly wandering through an untrusting home with danger just at his back. But he needed more dirt than just a familiar ache in his gut or a bizarre collection of books. He needed enough to bury the man alive, along with the lab. Would she hate him?

Does she even know?

“Man,” he lets out with a sigh, hands falling to his hips as he takes in the kitchen, a faint chuckle rattling within his chest. “You’ve got a nice home. Gotta say it’s cleaner than I expected,” the bullshit confession comes without thought, and he stumbles over it, backpedaling. “I mean, y’know, for a guy that works as much as you do.”

Ian remains with arms crossed, a guard up as he slowly closes in. His mind seems elsewhere, attention nowhere in particular as unheard thoughts swim through his mind, Hopper’s words slow to trickle through the barrier. “Huh? Oh, yeah. She, uh.. She helps a lot around the house. You, uh.. You want coffee or somethin’?”

The guest shakes his head, maybe all too eagerly at the thought of accepting anything from the man. “Alright,” he says with a long, painfully awkward drawl.

Jim Hopper pauses, eyes locked in on small pill vials set out on the counter, half empty, well used but to what extent he can’t tell without grabbing them for a closer look. But he sees her name on the bottles, and he thinks of their first moments together - how he asked her if she was seeing someone for help. “It’s for pain,” her father states boldly, though his tone is rather annoyed. “All legally prescribed by a doctor.”

He was getting defensive, though there was the tiniest shine of a smirk at the corner of his mouth, amused to see clear interest over what could have appeared to be an addiction to any stranger. Hopper is all too familiar.

“She’s not the healthiest kid out there, but not the worst. She needs some things t’get by.”

“What kind of things?” He’s unsure of why he asks, and that uncertainty grows to regret as the silence ticks on, growing thick, making the air difficult to choke down.

“Look, Hop,” Ian begins with a heavy sigh, arms now fallen from their position to instead leave hands resting in pockets, away from his view. Another syringe, another vial - a knife tucked deep into his fist, ready to strike out at any moment. “We’re fine here, and I appreciate the visit. But if that’s all you’re here for, I really have some things to do before the funeral.”

It’s over, he knows it. Hopper can see the man's patience worn thin, right down to the bone. It was stupid to show up here, and it would be even more careless to push him even further. A predator cornered is a beast willing to do anything as a means to escape, and so he smiles, nodding in acknowledgment before easing his way towards the door, still taking in everything that he could.

The walls are lined with family photographs, or school pictures, yet nothing from when she was young - much younger than the thirteen year old girl he once knew. Young enough to fall and scrape her knees, wailing for all of the neighbors to hear until her father came running. Young enough to make a cake from Play-Doh and actually eat it despite the many warnings. Young enough to still find the world fascinating, and terrifying all the same.

The article feels like a brick in his pocket, not once leaving his side since pulling it from the cluttered stack at the library. He wants to pull it out from the shadows and hold it up to the light just next to her face, just to make sure. Just so his mind can rest easy on this one thing.

“See you around, Chief,” the man states, seeming a little more comfortable knowing he had not only escaped revenge, but he had removed the parasite crawling through his home. No more prying, no more questions.

Hopper was standing on the welcome mat before he knew it, a mind racing a mile a minute trying to process the few things that seemed to speak the loudest. He’s aware he looks out of sorts, staring off into nothing as he tries to grasp onto something. “Yeah, see ya,” is all that comes in a whispered tone, the door closing before those words ever reach Ian.

He feels frozen at first, unsettled steps touching down before he’s fully gathered himself, and so he waits. Letting it all sink in. Hopper had left that home with more questions than answers, only now more confident that Mr. Reid was not who he said he was, but only by a sickening gut feeling whenever they held a gaze for longer than a few seconds. He sees a man dressed in a white hazmat suit, standing beneath the flickering lights as dust encapsulates them. Hopper feels as he did the night before, weak, tired, and drained - like gravity was pulling him deep into the earth, risking his knees to buckle from the pressure.

But there’s a fury that’s boiling just under his skin, his jaw locked in place with teeth clenched, and fingers wound tightly in a fist. It’s enough to reign in every ounce of strength he has to storm away from that home and back down the street, refusing to look back and give Ian the satisfaction. He slams his car door a little rougher than he intends to, his hat off and set on the dash as always before making an easy exit out of the neighborhood. He looks peaceful and calm - just a man doing his job, like he promised.

Yet the moment he escapes the view from those windows, he pulls the walkie from the dash, “This is Hopper, I need a background check on Ian Reid.”